


A Lonesome Dream

by LuckyZiri



Category: BNA: Brand New Animal (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Nightmares, One Shot, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Trauma, but it's off page, i stole that tag from someone else it's hilarious, no beta we die like Ogami, spoilers for episode 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyZiri/pseuds/LuckyZiri
Summary: Michiru has a nightmare and seeks Shirou for comfort.Platonic one-shot.
Relationships: Kagemori Michiru & Ogami Shirou
Comments: 14
Kudos: 191





	A Lonesome Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one sitting because I saw [ this prompt ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/otpprompts/121013041235) and my chaos brain activated. I'm still working on my other BNA oneshot series, don't worry.
> 
> Could technically be considered a prequel to [ BITOB?? ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453948)
> 
> Let's just hope I don't regret posting this immediately. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Michiru didn’t have nightmares often; that was Shirou’s department. Both of them had inconsistent sleep schedules, but on the off chance she did catch him with the lights off, she’d sometimes overhear him coming out of a nightmare. 

She hadn’t mentioned anything about it to him, because honestly, she was too chicken to ask if he was okay. Yes, she was nosy to a fault, but she figured he’d just glare at her and tell her she didn’t have to worry about it. Stupid old man, not talking about his _feeeelings._

But tonight, she’d woken up crying, her chest aching and her body drenched in sweat. 

That nightmare. Again.

The one about Yaba, and Shirou dying. 

It didn’t matter how many times she reminded herself that he couldn’t die, that he was immortal. Her stupid brain still clung to those horrible gory images that felt like they’d never leave. They’d tattooed themselves into her mind, and even when she closed her eyes, they’d reappear, over and over.

And it wasn’t just Yaba, oh no, she couldn’t just have one recurring nightmare. She’d also dreamed of when Shirou had saved her from falling off a skyscraper. That day, she’d heard his bones snap, and then many times after. Again and again. 

And she’d nearly died too. She’d told everyone, _I’m fine!_ Because she had to. They’d believed her, at least, they had seemed to. There were times when she caught Shirou squinting at her during tense situations, as if judging her for something he couldn't name. But he’d never...said anything cruel. In fact, sometimes he’d pat her on the head and release a soft sigh, and she’d feel a little better.

“You can...talk about it,” he’d rumbled one day. “If you want.”

She’d yet to take him up on it. Maybe she should, because the nightmares wouldn’t stop. Sometimes, in the skyscraper dream, Shirou still caught her, but he wouldn’t survive the fall, and it’d be all her fault. If he _didn’t_ save her, her body jolted her awake just before she struck the asphalt.

She hated it. Hated it so much that she cried angry tears, and as she sat up, she rubbed snot from her nose. God, she probably needed therapy or something. How did Shirou stand it? Were his nightmares this bad? She couldn’t fathom what all they could be about.

For a few moments, she lay halfway off the bed, watching the clock. It’s soft _tick tick tick_ made her ears twitch, and a soft patter of rain dribbled off the attic’s ceiling.

She sighed. Maybe it was time to take Shirou up on that offer.

Pulling on her rain boots, she crept down to the main apartments. The Horners were asleep, as evident by their lights being off, but a soft glow filtered from Shirou’s room. His office door was set ajar in case Kuro wanted to venture out and do Kuro things, so when she peered inside, she was surprised to see neither of them were there.

Strange. 

She pried the door further, sniffing. He was definitely there, just in another room. His bedroom was adjacent to the office, partially hidden, because he was a secretive old fart who didn’t want snoopy tanuki girls getting into his belongings. 

Which was...fair.

This door was also open for once, like, actually open. Michiru paused just outside it, unsure of what to do. He most likely knew she was there--his nose always gave her away--but he hadn’t said anything.

She poked her head in. “Shirou?”

His room was pretty boring, exactly as one would imagine an old man’s to be. Plain, muted colors and undecorated, with the exception of a few framed photographs on the dresser. Michiru had investigated them before—when he wasn’t home of course because she really was that nosy—and they mainly featured him and Mayor Rose, plus a few other people she couldn’t name.

He sat on his bed beneath a gray and white blanket, reading some old book. He didn’t even look up as he grunted, “Hmm?” 

Michiru padded toward him, examining the photographs again. The oldest one was in black and white. Shirou and eleven-year-old Mayor Rose stood before a wharf filled with old timey boats, and Shirou looked just the same as he did now, only he wore suspenders and an old hat. His hand was on Rose’s thin shoulder as she smiled sweetly at the camera. He of course looked sour as ever.

Michiru couldn’t help but smile. She still hoped he’d tell her more about his adventures one day, _buuuut_ she hadn’t gotten brave enough to ask yet.

Someday. Eventually.

“I…” She turned to him, suddenly self conscious. “I couldn’t sleep. I-I had the nightmare again. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I just didn’t know where else to go. Can I just sit in here? Or in the study?”

Ugh, she probably sounded so whiny about it. Like a needy kid. She was _not_ a kid.

He didn’t move at first, but paused for a moment, one hand about to turn the page of his book. Then he exhaled slowly through his nose. “Come on, then.”

She blinked. “Eh?” 

He flipped the blanket back and raised his arm to give her room. Gave her a look that read, _I’m not going to offer this ever again if you refuse now._

Michiru nearly cried. “Awww, Shirou! You do care!”

He made a face like he'd eaten a live bug as she crawled up beside him, shoving her toes under the covers and pulling the sheet up to her chest. The bed was wide enough that they weren’t touching, but Michiru bonked her head against his shoulder, and he didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he relaxed against her as she asked, “Whatcha reading?”

“Twain.” He licked his thumb to flip to the next page. “In French.”

“You speak _French_?”

A side-eye. “Amongst other things.”

She rolled her eyes and adjusted her pillow. “So boring. You never want to watch movies or anything. You know, stuff with action! Pew pew!”

“I like to cross-translate classics,” he said. “Keeps the mind sharp.”

“Oh my god, you really are an old man.”

He elbowed her, not hard enough to punt her off the bed like he most likely wanted to, but she got the message. She curled up under his arm again, and he patted her head as she closed her eyes. He was warm, and the bed sheets smelled like him. Like old leather and sea breeze, comforting and familiar. It reminded her of all the nights she and Nazuna had had sleepovers, and her heart instantly ached for her best friend.

Her loneliness had grown stronger the longer she stayed in Anima City, and she figured, maybe Shirou was a little bit of lonely too. Why else would he have let her come in here? Curl up in his bed, of all places?

“Did you come to talk?” he asked, still not looking up from the book.

Michiru buried herself further under the blankets. “Uhh...not tonight. I don’t think I’m ready. I’m just…” 

She didn’t finish, but he nodded like he understood. Snapped the book closed and gently popped her atop the head with it. “You better not snore.”

“Me? Snore? Never!”

He shook his head again and reached to turn off the light, right as Michiru yawned the biggest yawn to ever exist.

“Goodnight, Shirou,” she said softly. “Thanks for letting me stay."

She could only hear his soft huff in the darkness, then felt another soft pat on the forehead. “Goodnight, Michiru.”

The nightmares didn’t return that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on social media if u want to scream about BNA and MHA stuffs.
> 
> [ Tumblr ](https://rowdyredriot.tumblr.com/) / [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/FaindriArt)


End file.
